from the ground Up

by Jessica Cheam, The Straits Times, December 9 2008
Country pushes jatropha cultivation for biofuel market
MAW TIN (Myanmar): A green, leafy shrub has taken root in Myanmar, proving to be a keen rival to the country’s padi fields.
With a greyish-brown bark, large hairy leaves and poisonous fruit, the plant is far from a food crop yet [...]

Snow-drenched landscape, with steam emitted from a crude oil upgrader, converting bitumen mined from Canada’s oil sands into crude oil.

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Sorry for the lack of personal updates. Have been meaning to write a bit more, but have been travelling for the past two weeks and didn’t help that my work laptop died on the first day I arrived in Canada.

So the whirlwind tour of the world in the last couple of weeks included flying from Singapore to Tokyo, to Los Angeles, to Calgary, up to Fort McMurray, back to Calgary, to Houston, then finally Moscow and back to Singapore.

I feel like I don’t want to travel now for a long long time and feel extremely guilty about the carbon footprint of all that flying - am looking out for a reliable website where I can possibly pay to offset my flights.

But in general, the trip has been thoroughly interesting and I feel like I now know a lot more about the energy sector, particularly after visiting projects such as Canada’s oil sands, and deepwater drilling projects in the US, off the Gulf of Mexico.

More on that coming up, since I don’t know what will be published yet, as of now.

My jatropha story is not published yet so I can’t write too much about it. But leaving where I left off yesterday, on day 2, we left that desolate yet beautiful resort in Ngwe Saung and drove about two hours along bumpy roads to get to the Mawtin plantation near Pathein.

The broken bridge

The road was even bumpier than the main roads, mainly because it was mostly just a dirt track. At one point we had to get off the car, while the 4×4 drove across the river (thank goodness it was low tide) because the bridge had broken from when the cyclone hit and could not longer take the weight of a car. It was the only time I’ve ever appreciated the merits of a 4×4. But I was happy to get out to stretch my legs. If it weren’t so hot, I would have put on my asics and ran all the way to the plantation. Good marathon training.

When we reached the plantation, rows and rows of jatropha plants as far as our eyes could see greeted us. The green expanse before me stretched out forever, marked only by the different shades of green, gradients of the undulating hills. It wasn’t magnificently striking, but I was overwhelmed with a sense of serenity. And for once I really appreciated the peace and quiet it offered.

I wondered if National Geographic ever got the chance to film any of Myanmar’s wildlife - because I can bet my life on the amazing biodiversity they would discover. Come to think of it, although I watch that channel regularly, I have never once seen a documentary on Myanmar. I can imagine it must be extremely difficult to get permission. But it’s such a shame, because its countryside is so beautiful, untouched, and so vast, you wonder why there’s no mention of Myanmar’s forests as a major carbon sink in climate change talks. Its always Indonesia’s trees and the Amazon that’s mentioned and that needs to be saved.

The model eco-farm

Apparently in the surrouding forest there are wild elephants who come out at night, drawn out by the smell of beans that the farm grows on the plantation. The idea that wild elephants might just “visit”, somehow, struck me as a very romantic. Although, I don’t think the pigs thought so - because apparently the night before we visited, an elephant came in the middle of the night and the pigs got so scared they had a mini stampede and one piglet died from getting trampled on.

If you’re wondering why they had pigs there, it’s because the whole farm/plantation was planned like a model eco-farm. Some 650 local Burmese farmers and workers live in quarters built by the company and they are completely self-sufficient in that they even grow their own food, vegetables, rear their own animals for meals. They even ran the farm on electricity generated by burning biomass - rice husks. Part of their plantation is used to grow rice in padi fields. The bamboo they harvest from clearing the land is also made into eco-bamboo products by the workers in their spare time.

Thinking about it, it only made sense the farm should be self-sufficient, being in the middle of nowhere. Even Pathein - the nearest town, and Myanmar’s fourth largest city - was a bit of a drive away. Anyway, I have to admit I went there with my eyes open, as a naturally skeptical and impartial observer (job pre-requisites), but I left with a good sense that things were being done right and that they were really going about the planting in a responsible manner.

I had such an amazing time, touring the plantation, looking even at boring things like warehouses and tractors. The farm even had a clinic with its very own doctor in it. Malaria cases were tracked on a chart on a chalkboard and pills were neatly lined up on the side of the doc’s desk. The farmers’ families are also invited to live on site with them, such that the attap houses form a village with three generations from grandparents to grandkids. I spotted an old woman staring at me with curiousity, sitting in the doorway, with that pondering-about-life look and I gathered it mustn’t be a bad life, being able to live so close to nature, with your family around you. The kids run around, chasing the black kampung chickens, faced smeared with something the Burmese call “tan nah kah” which essentially is tree bark which they harvest from a local tree and smear on their cheeks as sun lotion. The locals I spoke to swear by it - it shields the sun’s harmful rays plus apparently has firming qualities. It’s true many of the locals have great skin. Shame I didn’t manage to secure bring some back. They tell me it’s only a matter of time before “tan nah kah” overtakes SKII as the leading Asian skin product.

More on the plantation will come later - I will only say that if I do get some time off in the near future, like a sabbatical of sorts, I would even go back to the plantation to live for a month, work up a good tan, plant some jatropha trees, mix with the locals, and just enjoy the nature around me. It was refreshing to be surrounded by trees instead of cars and urban concrete, where water was pumped from underground from a tank, and the eggs we ate were from free-range chickens chased around by carefree kids.

Sorry for the lack of updates recently. Have been traveling and swamped with work since I’ve been back that I’ve not had time to write anything else.

Went to Myanmar for work - which was supposed to happen earlier this year before Cyclone Nargis happened, and the experience was an eye-opener.

The photo on the left was taken on the first evening I was in Myanmar - on the west coast, at Ngwe Saung. It was desolate, there were only one family, and us, at this massive resort. The coast stretched for kilometres and there was an untouched beauty to it, with waves breaking on it so clean it would have been a surfer’s paradise anywhere else in the world. But because it was so isolated, it was all the more beautiful. We drove a back-breaking six hours on really bad roads that had been ruined by relief trucks carrying tonnes of goods for the cyclone victims. It was worse than riding a horse for hours (and I used to go horse-riding in England when I was studying so I know) we were bumped around safari-style and the driver we had must be a hamilton fan because he still kept up the speed and didn’t care much for the potholes on the road and sent us flying, heads hitting the ceiling of the car, about every five seconds.

We finally reached one of the jatropha plantations we were visiting (more on that later) and after that, we had to drive on long, winding cornwall-esque roads which made me feel really nauseous for one and half hours before reaching the resort where we were staying.

And when we reached there, the sun was just setting over the horizon on this long, beautiful beach - it made the rough journey worth it.

I will write more on my trip but there are a few observations I’d like to put on record:

There are so many misconceptions about the country - and so many misunderstandings about how it runs, and its people.

Burmese people are one of the most peaceful and contented lot I’ve seen for awhile - not such a bad thing, it might seem, for these people who have mostly escaped the full brunt of capitalism as we know it.

The sanctions hurt no one but the people - the junta don’t care for it, but the local people depend on foreign investment, better paying jobs and tourism to help uplift their poverty.

I am more convinced than ever, that Asean’s policy of inclusion regarding Myanmar is correct. There are many mainstream media critics who like to adopt a self-righteous tone whenever they discuss Asean’s inclusion of Myanmar. But having been there, I’m more convinced than ever that exclusion would only plunge the country into further isolation, with no reprieve for their people.

It was refreshing to be there for the five days - I was missing first-world comforts but in a way, it was liberating to be without it. It was also nice to see people being contented with their lot, and not running the rat race and chasing the dollar. The financial crisis had no effect on the atmosphere of the country and after one day, with no mobile signal whatsoever in the country, or communication to the outside world at large, I was beginning to feel like going back to basics isn’t such a bad idea after all.

I would encourage anyone who’s ever been interested to find out what the country is like to visit it as soon as they can. Forget what people say about boycotting the place. It’s a safe, very cheap for tourists, and you can boost local trade by travelling and eating everything local. The experience will be much more enriching than say, one weekend shopping trip to Hong Kong will ever do for you. And really, you can’t talk accurately about the country unless you’ve been there.

Whether it’s a windy coastal drive, food, clubbing or comedy, the city is packed with lots of character

IT IS up a little alleyway that I begin to discover the secrets of Melbourne.
The walls of the narrow lane are covered with artistic graffiti and the inconspicuous entrance to a bar, St Jerome in Caledonian Street, beckons as the sound of the crowd on the streets on a Saturday night, slowly fade into oblivion.
Inside, the bar is small, L-shaped and dimly lit. There are young, trendy-looking Aussies milling around, taking swigs of their beer.
My companions and I order some Aussie favourites – Victoria Bitter, Little Creatures, Pure Blonde – and make our way to the back.
It’s a weird world out there: a small courtyard is hemmed in by four-storey-high walls decked with fairy lights strung on pipes running along them. In a corner, a deejay is spinning some alternative house music on neon-lit decks….

Just a couple of months ago, I got offered a trip to Myanmar to cover a company’s operations which had to do with my beat. I was really excited at the prospect of visiting a country that’s been so much in the news recently, and yet is still shrouded with so much mystery.

So the trip was scheduled for the first week of May, but unfortunately visa woes held up my trip and then Asia’s worst cyclone in recent memory happened.

I guess I could count myself lucky that I wasn’t there when it happened, because it was very likely that I would have been. But imagine the things I would have seen, the help I could have rendered, and the amazing stories I could have come back with. It is with slight regret that I didn’t make it there “in time” - although what’s comforting is at least my trip is not cancelled, just postponed for now - till we have a clearer picture of what’s going on.

Interestingly, I met a contact today who was involved in this trip I was going to make to Burma/Myanmar and he remarked that the world’s perception of what’s going in Myanmar is vastly different from what it’s like on the ground, in the country.

He said, when he visited about two years ago, it was the safest place he’d seen, with no obvious military presence, and he observed the life of the simple folk - not touched by materialism and luxuries, but contented and happy.

People would go into the bank and draw out slabs of cash, which look like stacks of huge bricks, (due to country’s inflation, the currency is almost worthless) and put it in a flimsy plastic bag, which they will carry like they’re carrying a loaf of bread, and take it on the bus, with the plastic bag swinging around beside them - with no apparent concern that it might be snatched off their hands.

To my criticism of Burma’s 46-year-rule by the military regime, he said it was a “matter of who is in power at which period in time”. He proceeded to explain, having gained insight from an influential Burmese businessman, that during the 1990 general election, the generals were happy to hand over the power to Daw Aung San Suu Kyi - Myanmar’s famous democracy advocate who won the 1990 elections to claim the Prime Minister position - to let her and democracy run the country - but they had one condition: the generals wanted immunity from future persecution, presumably for their past crimes and whatever skeletons they had in their closet.

She said no. They placed her under house arrest. And the rest is history.

My contact said to me, “if you think from the generals’ point of view: I’m happy to hand over the power to you, just don’t come after me. You say no? Okay then, we won’t give up our position. You can continue life as it is, just like the rest of the Burmese for the last two decades.”

He also claimed the Myanmese generals hadn’t been that stupid to run a general election, and provoke the world’s fury and scorn by declaring the results null and void - as a futile bad PR exercise. He believed they genuinely wanted to hand over power, but weren’t willing to do it with any doubt that their future would be safe.

It was good food for thought. How true, that this is the correct version of what went on behind the scenes, is of course for me and you to decide. But considering I don’t have much contact with Burmese businessmen - who know their country far more intimately than me, I am tempted to give my contact the benefit of the doubt.

Just think, if she had taken their offer, and given up the right to persecute them (a completely separate issue that has its own set of considerations), for the sake of a hypothetical argument let’s say she did, what would Myanmar be like now? Would it still be Burma? Will their people be happier? Will they have enjoyed a similar success to Vietnam - or even surpass their neighbour’s economic achievement, under the democratic capitalism that would have come with Aung’s rule? Will that possible future and achievements - be worth giving up the right to persecute the generals for past crime?

As a person who looks forward, not back, I know which choice I would have made if I were in her shoes. Then again, perhaps I haven’t known the suffering of the people, or understood how important justice is to them. And perhaps if she was given that same choice - the red or blue pill - she would have not changed anything. Can freedom and success in the future ever replace the wrong and injustice of the past?

I guess there isn’t an easy answer.